


Make A Memory

by HapaxLegomenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2015, Friendship, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapaxLegomenon/pseuds/HapaxLegomenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years after their high school graduation -- nineteen since their break-up -- Daichi and Suga stand together once again in the old gymnasium.</p><p>Fill for SASO 2015 BR3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make A Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted and heavily inspired by the titular song, Bon Jovi's "(You Want To) Make A Memory)
> 
> Re-posted entry written for the SASO 2015 Bonus Round 3 (FST).

Twenty years after their high school graduation -- nineteen since their break-up -- Daichi and Suga stand together once again in the old gymnasium.  
  
“It looks the same,” Daichi says quietly, affectionately, listening to imaginary echoes of volleyballs smacking off hands and floors and teenage yelling and whistles. Yeah, the gym looks the same. They don’t, though. They’re a little wider and softer and there are wrinkles in strange places. Suga’s hair has always been light, silvery-blond, but now there’s just a little more silver and a little less blond. Daichi’s hair is still as dark as it ever was. What’s left of it. It’s getting thinner and thinner every year.  
  
“Yeah,” Suga says, just as quiet. He has an empty wine glass in his hand, and he’s nervously fidgeting with the base. A sudden burst of laughter filters across the space between the main school building and the gym -- their old classmates, enjoying the reunion. Asahi is there, probably, and Daichi wants to say hi to him later, but. For now, this is about him and Sugawara.  
  
Except there have been so many words unspoken between them for so long that he chokes on them all, and a silence stretches, wide and heavy, dividing the metre separating them into a chasm. It’s hard to cross.  
  
“Hey,” Daichi says finally, just as Suga is starting to turn away. He has his hand in his pant pocket, and Daichi hears the jingle of keys before he stills again. He doesn’t turn back, but he waits, and Daichi tries to pluck out the right words from the space between them, the things that he needs to say to bridge the gap.  
  
“You still remember how to pick the lock?” he says finally, nodding towards the storage room, and Suga grins for the first time.  
  
“Even better,” he says, pulling his key ring from his pocket. “I asked Coach Ukai for the key.” He winks, and Daichi experiences a rush of fond nostalgia. “Just in case.”  
  
Daichi hovers while Suga unlocks the door. He’s not trying to be a pest, he really isn’t, and he backs off a little bit when he sees Suga’s jaw tighten in irritation. Still, he surges forward again the second the door swings open.  
  
Suga wrinkles his nose. “It smells the same,” he says, and it’s not a good thing, really, but Daichi doesn’t care, because he remembers the basket of volleyballs and the way to assemble the net and he doesn’t say anything but approaches the poles with purpose, hefting one over his shoulder and carrying it out singlehandedly. There’s a pause, then he hears a metallic swish and a grunt and he smiles because Suga’s dragging a pole, too.  
  
They set up the net in silence, and wheel out the balls in silence. It’s comfortable now, though, and that’s all Daichi was really hoping for.  
  
Suga slips out of his suit jacket, and Daichi’s breath hitches at the motion of it. But then Suga looks at him, raises a questioning eyebrow, and Daichi is blinking away and shrugging his own jacket off and automatically lining up by the service line.  
  
He serves the ball, then runs, and his shoes squeak on the floorboards but it doesn’t matter because Suga’s toss is still perfect and the ball slams down in the center of the opposite court. He pauses, panting, and they smile at each other before Daichi thinks, _again_ , and he jogs to the back of the court for another ball.  
  
Soon, his tie has joined the suit jacket, crumpled in the corner, and he’s sweat through his expensive shirt, but he doesn’t care. He spikes again, and again, and again, and if it wasn’t for the uncomfortable dress shoes and his long pants and the way his body protests he’d think that he was in high school again, high on youth and competition and his first love.  
  
Every ball hits home.  
  
Except, when he serves the next ball and starts the run-up, Suga catches it as it falls instead of setting it. “Daichi,” he says, and he looks at the colours on the volleyball he’s squeezing rather than at his old teammate. “Should we talk about this?”  
  
Daichi exhales, loud and long, and it’s half catching his breath and half a sigh. “I don’t know. Do you think we need to?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Suga echoes. “We said everything a long time ago.” Daichi nods silently.  
  
“Well!” Suga says, and smiles sunnily. He’s trying, but Daichi knows -- knew -- knows him well enough to see how _hard_ he’s trying. “Should we keep going?”  
  
There are so many words between them, words that were said and words that weren’t and never will be, and Daichi just nods again. Suga lobs the ball and Daichi carries it back, then serves and runs and spikes.  
  
There’s a soft knock at the open door, and when Daichi looks there’s a very familiar stubbled face smiling in at them uncertainly.  
  
“Hi,” Asahi says, eyes shifting like he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to look.  
  
It’s been years since Daichi last spoke with him. Since the break-up. He wonders if Asahi and Suga have kept in touch. Wonders how this will go.  
  
“Asahi!” Suga says, and his smile is genuine now. Asahi smiles back, cheeks pink with relief, and makes his way into the gym.  
  
He flinches, though, when Daichi calls out, “Well if it isn’t our glass-hearted ace.”  
  
“Daichi,” Suga scolds, and it’s all so familiar that they come together in the middle of the court, grinning and patting each other’s shoulders.  
  
Asahi nods towards one of the scattered balls. “Can I join in?”  
  
“I’ll receive,” Daichi says by way of an answer, and Asahi and Suga grin happily at each other.  
  
So Asahi serves and runs, and Suga sets the ball -- high, a little away from the net, just like Asahi has always preferred it -- and the ball smacks into Daichi’s forearms and up. It has enough force behind it to knock him nearly to his knees, but the ball goes up, up, and falls right where his setter would be.  
  
It’s familiar, and comfortable. This is a reunion, and a reconciliation of sorts. They play together, and they leave together, and there are so many words still between them, words and feelings that muddle together and make everything confusing, but that’s fine, Daichi realizes. They’re older, now, and he’s not in love with Suga anymore, and Suga’s not in love with him, but that’s fine. They still do love each other. Just not the way they did when they were seventeen.  
  
It’s a reconciliation, and a promise that now they can all move forward together. They have so many memories together, and now, enough time has passed that they can come together once again to build new memories. Together, like they were always supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk fandom to me on Twitter at [@paxlegomenon](https://twitter.com/paxlegomenon).


End file.
